Yet Another Harry Potter Story
by Padfoot Hoshi
Summary: Basically takes place where the fifth book left off, and obviously contains OotP spoilers. Flames accepted. Better title pending. R&R!
1. Letters and Escape Plans

Chapter One - Letters and Escape Plans  
  
Harry Potter sat inside his room at Number Four, Privet Drive, writing a letter to his former professor, Remus J. Lupin. At the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts, Lupin and five other members of the Order of the Phoenix had stopped at Kings Cross Station to meet him as he got off the train. They had informed the Dursleys that if they didn't hear from Harry for three days in a row, they would come and get him.  
  
What had seemed like the perfect plan had somehow gone awry. The Dursleys, well aware of the fact that, as an underage wizard, he couldn't use magic outside of school. Wanting to keep Harry as miserable as possible, they had locked up his owl, Hedwig, and made him send all of his mail by Muggle post to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. If he didn't say he was happy, well....  
  
Were this a year ago, they would not have been able to do this. Harry blamed himself for the fact that he was so miserable now. Feeling thouroughly depressed once, he had accidently let it slip to Dudley that his godfather had died. Sirius was the only thing that kept the Dursleys from doing anything horrible to him. He was convicted for murder, and Harry had convieniently forgotten to tell them that he was innocent. But it was no use brooding. He was gone now.  
  
He looked out his window, hoping to see Ron Weasley arrive in his flying car, like he had four years earlier. No such luck. The car was running wild in the Forbidden Forest on the Hogwarts grounds, who knew how many miles from him.  
  
I WANT A RESCUE!! He yelled inwardly. But, remembering what Dumbledore had told him only weeks ago, he had to call Privet Drive home. He was safe there. But, he reminded himself, as though desperate to prove Dumbledore wrong so that something might save him, Dementors turned up in Magnolia Crescent last year!!! Two of them! Safe here!  
  
As he remembered that night in the alley almost a year ago, something tweaked in the back of his mind. Mrs. Figg!  
  
Arabella Figg was an old lady that lived down the street from the Dursleys. A Squib, she had had to take care of Harry when he was younger and the Dursleys went out. She had owned many cats in her lifetime, and her house smelled vaguely like cabbage. But, in her words, "I wanted to be nicer to you, but I couldn't. Didn't want them to think you were having a good time. Otherwise they wouldn't let you come back." He knew he could easily use magic to contact Lupin or anyone else, no one would expel him. He was sure of that. But using magic under the Dursleys' noses. they might throw him out. And Privet Drive was the only place that he was truly safe. Even if last year Aunt Petunia had kept him, he didn't think she would again.  
  
But couldn't he visit Mrs. Figg- now that he knew-  
  
He pocketed the letter and raced downstairs into the sitting room, where the Dursleys were having tea, making sure they noticed him.  
  
"Where're you going?" asked Aunt Petunia suspiciously, eyeing him as though he were about to destroy the house.  
  
"Out."  
  
"Out where?"  
  
"Mrs. Figg caught me when I went for a walk last night, and she wants me to clean out her attic," Harry lied quickly.  
  
"Well. Maybe that'll knock some ruddy sense into you," said his uncle Vernon.  
  
Before they could tell him otherwise, he was out the door, down the street, and knocking on number six.  
  
Mrs. Figg answered the door, clad in a bathrobe and slippers. Her face lit up when she answered the door.  
  
"Harry!" she squealed. "Come in! Come in! Oh, I'm so glad to see you! Sit down! Shall I make you some tea? How was your year at Hogwarts?"  
  
"Er," Harry replied, not wanting to think about the events of last year. He had consecutively lost his mother, father, and godfather, and the best thing to do at the moment was to try and not think about it.  
  
He shook his head. "Mrs. Figg- er- can I ask you something?"  
  
"Anything!" said Mrs. Figg, still quite overexcited upon seeing him.  
  
"Er- well- do you have an owl? Because I've got this letter I need to send and-"  
  
The whole story came pouring out. Mrs. Figg looked on sympathetically. When he was finished, she leapt up and scurried into her kitchen.  
  
Moments later, she reappeared with an owl that looked like a brown version of Errol.  
  
"Here, dear, use Demoks. He hasn't had a job in ages, but I think he'll be alright."  
  
Harry hastily pulled his letter to Lupin out of his pocket. "I'll- er- just finish this, then."  
  
Dear Lupin,  
  
Thanks for your last letter. Are Ron and Hermione there? How are they? How's Buckbeak?  
  
Please reply to this pronto, because I'm in a bit of a tight spot right now. The Dursleys have been monitoring my letters, and this may be the only honest one I get to write. Ignore all the others.  
  
I want out of here. Anything you can do?  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Harry  
  
He tied the letter to Demoks's leg and sent him off, praying that the Dursleys wouldn't see the owl swooping out of the house two doors down.  
  
A minute after he had released the owl, he realized how much information he had included. But, anyway, he reassured himself, what was the chance that it would be intercepted? Just about zilch. But, still...  
  
Trying to shake the thought out of his head, he picked up a scone off the plate that Mrs. Figg had set down in front of him, and took a large bite. What he really wanted to do was fly out of the house on his Firebolt, straight to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place in London, the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. He knew he wouldn't get expelled. After avoiding it once a year ago, he felt that there was nothing anyone could really do to him any more. He just wanted to see Ron and Hermione. And get away from Privet Drive. Besides, was flying a broomstick really underage magic? The broomstick was bewitched to fly, it wasn't as though he was bewitching it. and it wouldn't be a problem, unless he was seen. And being the skilled flyer that he was, that wasn't likely. And, last year, hadn't he flown away with Moody and Tonks and a dozen others? He had had his hearing for conjuring a Patronus, not for flying.  
  
But then there was the matter of his trunk. he couldn't very well carry it on his broom, nor could he bewitch it to be feather-light and then carry it that way, as he had wanted to do when he was thirteen. Or he could just live out the summer with the Dursleys.  
  
No, no, he wouldn't do that. He was going to get out. 


	2. A Way Out

Chapter Two - A Way Out  
  
Harry lay in bed that night, thinking. If there was a way to leave, he was going to think of it. Preferably sooner rather than later.  
  
Ron and Hermione would surely help him, but he really didn't feel like paying Mrs. Figg another visit. He would just have to resort to magic.  
  
It was mad. It was totally mad. But that was alright. He had done more than his share of mad things in his life. And as Dumbledore had said, as long as he called Privet Drive home, he would be safe.  
  
It's home. I'm home now. He knew that home would never be here, but where people accepted him for what he was. And if he was a freak by the Dursleys' standards, well, he just hoped that they'd never meet Luna Lovegood.  
  
Magic. bewitching his trunk. he wouldn't get expelled, no, they wouldn't dare expel him. He should've been expelled last year. Then he could've prevented that foul, cheating, stinking, evil, CENSORED CENSORED (AN: what the heck, I've got to keep this PG, haven't I?) from killing Sirius.  
  
Stop thinking about it. Just stop. It's over.  
  
No, even if he broke the law, that wouldn't stop Dumbledore from letting him attend Hogwarts. Now that all those Educational Degrees had been discontinued, the Ministry had no control over him anymore. Though they had, just a few short weeks ago, admitted that Voldemort had returned, they remained firmly on their seats. No, they could disapprove, but as long as Albus Dumbledore was alive, Harry knew he would not be expelled.  
  
A loud screeching noise interrupted Harry's thoughts. Turning towards his bedroom window, he saw a large tawny owl carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts school crest tapping the window impatiently with its beak. Harry's own snowy owl, Hedwig, ruffled her wings in her cage beside him. Ignoring Uncle Vernon's equally loud cry of "Ruddy owls!" from downstairs, Harry hurriedly opened the window and untied the parcel from the owl's leg. He then opened Hedwig's cage, and the owl ate a bit of her food before flying off into the night.  
  
His fingers shaking, Harry turned over the envelope. This envelope contained his O.W.L. scores. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened it.  
  
Four pieces of creamy parchment fell out and dropped to his bed. The first one read:  
  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
  
This is to inform you that the new term begins on September first. The Hogwarts Express leaves at eleven o'clock from Platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross Station. Enclosed is a list of required supplies for next year, as well as your O.W.L. scores.  
  
Sincerely,  
Professor Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
Harry took a brief glance at his list of new books, and then picked up a third piece of parchment. The bold heading read "O.W.L. SCORES - HARRY POTTER". Due to the fact that he had not really thought about a career as anything except an Auror, a Dark Wizard catcher, Harry knew that he needed top O.W.L. scores to even be accepted to train as one. He scanned the parchment.  
  
O.W.L. SCORES - HARRY POTTER  
  
Theory of Charms - E  
  
Practical Charms - E  
  
Theory of Transfiguration - A  
  
Practical Transfiguration - E  
  
Theory of Defense Against the Dark Arts - O  
  
Practical Defense Against the Dark Arts - O  
  
Theory of Potions - A  
  
Practical Potions - E  
  
Care of Magical Creatures - O  
  
Theory of Astronomy - A  
  
Divination - P  
  
Practical Astronomy - A  
  
Herbology - E  
  
History of Magic - P  
  
Key: O = Outstanding; E = Exceeds Expectations; A= Acceptable; P= Poor; D =  
Dreadful  
  
That wasn't too horrible. Though, when he had had to meet with Professor McGonagall to discuss his career, she had said that to begin training as an Auror, he needed N.E.W.T.s in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and, of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Only those who received an E or higher in Transfiguration would be accepted into Professor McGonagall's N.E.W.T. classes. And he had gotten and E in practical Transfiguration, hadn't he? And he had gotten and E on both Charms exams. And double Outstanding marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. But then Potions. Snape wouldn't take anything less than Outstanding, and he was hanging in between Acceptable and Exceeds Expectations. On the other hand, Harry remembered Professor McGonagall saying something. "Potter, I will assist you to become an Auror if it's the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly I will make sure you achieve the required results!" Harry leaned back against the wall and smiled. Even if she had only said that to contradict Umbridge, Harry was sure that Professor McGonagall would not go back on her word. And despite the fact that he wanted to drop Potions, being an Auror was the only thing he had ever thought about doing. he thought he'd be good at it, and had even been told so, even if that was by a mad Death Eater impersonating Mad-Eye Moody. That very same imposter had told Hermione, too, that she would make a good Auror. Ron was furious that he hadn't told him the same thing, but after they found out that he wasn't the real Mad-Eye Moody, he was much happier ("Knew there was something funny about him; didn't think I'd make a good Auror.").  
  
As Harry was about to take of his glasses and go to sleep, he noticed a fourth piece of parchment that had come in the envelope. He overturned it and read:  
  
Four Points.  
  
What was that supposed to mean? Four points.. He knew that the wizarding world was on guard, and everyone was afraid to include too much information in their letters, in case they got intercepted, but this was ridiculous. Unable to, at the moment, fathom the mysteries of the letter, Harry slumped back on his pillow and fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
He had very strange dreams. First he was spinning horribly, down, down, and unable to stop. It felt like he was travelling by Floo Powder. Then with a soft thump, he landed on a cloud and fell through it, drenched to the skin, and landed on his broomstick. Next thing, Malfoy too was flying through the air on a broomstick. He was taunting him. "Come and get it, Potter, come on, what are you, scared? Come and get it, Potter you know you want it! Come and get it!" He charged at Malfoy, then fell off his broom and landed on a maroon and tawny Hippogriff, which was wearing the Sorting Hat. and then he was spinning again, but he had to get to Malfoy, Malfoy had something he needed, something his life depended on. which way was Malfoy? He was heading East, Harry could see him. and then he was spinning again..  
  
Harry woke with a start and grabbed his glasses off his bedside table, put them on and grabbed the fourth piece of parchment.  
  
Four Points.  
  
He knew what it meant now, or at least, he thought he did. The Four Point spell he had used in his fourth year, during the third task in the Triwizard Tournament.  
  
He rolled of his bed, opened his trunk, and began searching for his wand. He couldn't find it, and, for a fleeting instant, he though he'd lost it. Then he realized it was in his back pocket. He pulled it out, tapped the parchment, and said, "Point Me."  
  
The parchment began to spin very fast. It got hotter, very, very hot, until a blinding white light blazed from it, and it lay still once more.  
  
There was a window in the parchment. A window. And there were people inside, and a jumble of voices. Harry hesitantly poked his finger inside the window. At once, his bedroom began to spin. He was being sucked into the window in the parchment. And all at once he landed. He had had an experience like that only three times before. Twice, it was being sucked into a Pensieve, and once, it was being sucked into an enchanted diary. But for some reason, he was sure that this was not someone's memory.  
  
AN: Cliffhanger!! Where is he? Any guesses? It's really quite obvious. Do you like it? Please review!!! :D -Juli 


	3. Back to the Burrow

Chapter Three - Back to the Burrow  
  
"Harry!" cried a familiar voice from behind him. "Mind you keep a tight hold on that parchment!"  
  
Harry turned around, and his jaw dropped. "Mrs. Weasley?" he said in disbelief. He stood up. No wonder the place in the window had looked so familiar- he was at the Burrow! And that very moment, Ron and Hermione bounded down the stairs.  
  
"Harry!" they cried. Harry was exceptionally glad that Hermione did not throw her arms around him as she had done upon their reunion a year before, because it had been very difficult to breathe. Then they burst into a flurry of explanations.  
  
"Dumbledore said he was going to get you-"  
  
"We're just about to leave for Grimmauld Place-"  
  
"What did you get on your O.W.L.s?"  
  
Harry grinned. Unlike the last summer, he was overjoyed to see them, and now understood why Dumbledore had kept him at Privet Drive. However, their excited chatters and questions were cut off by Mrs. Weasley, who said, "Harry, you'd best be getting your things from Privet Drive. We're leaving for London in about half a moment."  
  
Harry looked down at his parchment in confusion. "But it's gone blank," he said. "The window's closed."  
  
Mrs. Weasley drew her wand impatiently. "Knew this would happen," she muttered irritably. "Reciprocus!"  
  
"There you go, dear," she said, handing the parchment back to Harry, who discovered that the window had once again opened onto his bedroom at Privet Drive. He once again poked his finger inside the window. Moments later, he felt himself land with a thump on his bedroom floor.  
  
He got up, gathered his things together and shoved them in his trunk. He found with exasperation that the parchment window had once again closed. "Reciprocus," he said angrily, and put the tip of his nose in the window, as both of his hands were full.  
  
When he was back at the Burrow, he found not the excited chaos of before, but the whole house crowded around a letter. The huddle was murmuring. Slowly, people broke away from it. First Fred and George, who were now sporting dragonhide boots to go with their jackets, then Ginny, and then Ron and Hermione.  
  
"What was that about?" Harry asked them.  
  
"I dunno," said Ron. "That's why we left. 'S in code or something. Can't read it. But we're going to leave soon, bet you anything."  
  
"We'd better get our things," said Hermione, exchanging glances with Ron. Harry was under the extremely uncomfortable impression that they knew something he didn't. Instead of following them up, he stood behind Mr. Weasley and tried to see the letter. He realized that Ron was right. It must've been in code, or some sort of indecipherable shorthand. It read:  
  
ST SW MISn. TR? Please come quickly. P AT S sys rl-nt-am  
  
Then Mrs. Weasley folded up the letter and stood up. She noticed Harry's bemused expression and said, "Not to worry, Harry dear, just Order business. We'll be getting off to London soon, so could you please tell Ron and Hermione that we're going? Fred and George will be Apparating."  
  
Harry nodded. He had been around the adults of the Order of the Phoenix enough last summer to know that asking questions would hardly ever get him any answers. He raced upstairs.  
  
"Find out anything?" asked Ron eagerly, knowing why Harry had stayed downstairs.  
  
"No; the only part of it that I could read was the "please come quickly". The rest of it was about as distinguishable as Ancient Runes."  
  
Hermione pursed her lips. She took Ancient Runes, and probably could have understood the entire thing had she tried hard enough, but she didn't say anything.  
  
"Your mum says we've got to go soon, so you two better pack," said Harry hastily, so as to avoid a long discussion about the beauty of Ancient Runes.  
  
***  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione got downstairs late. Mrs. Weasley looked agitated. Something in that letter had been important. Very important indeed, why else would they be so rushed? Mrs. Weasley offered the familiar flowerpot filled with emerald green powder to Ginny, who tossed it into the fire and yelled, "Twelve Grimmauld Place!" before disappearing among the embers. Ron went next, then Hermione, then Harry, who removed his glasses before taking the powder. Once again he was spinning quickly, and moments later found himself forcefully tossed out of an all too familiar fireplace.  
  
Harry put his glasses back on and stood up, brushing the soot off of him. A second later, Mrs. Weasley Apparated beside them, and with a loud popping noise, their trunks, Hedwig and Pigwidgeon's cages, and Crookshanks' carrying case appeared. She looked slightly frazzled and worried.  
  
"Well, you all know where you're staying," she said. "Go on! Put your things away, then!"  
  
As they trudged up the stairs with their trunks, Harry whispered, "What's she on about? Why's she all uptight?"  
  
"I dunno," said Ron. "She's been like that all week. That letter's put her over the edge, I expect."  
  
"We ought to ask Fred and George if they've got any more Extendable Ears," said Harry resignedly. He didn't know why, but there was something about that letter. most likely it had something to with him. But there was a burning curiosity inside him that he couldn't seem to suppress.  
  
"Don't bother," answered Ron. "They're almost sold out. They've got five left, and they won't even give me a free one."  
  
Harry chose to ignore this. He placed his trunk at the foot of one of the beds in the room and tore off down the hall toward Fred and George's room, but they weren't there. Would they have been allowed into the Order meetings by now? They were eighteen, overage, and had jobs. Harry ran off again to what had once been Sirius's mother's room, thinking that he could at least see Buckbeak. To his very great surprise, Fred and George were standing over Buckbeak, who seemed to be sporting a long, lolling, purple tongue.  
  
"Thought you'd given up on those," said Harry, smiling slightly.  
  
The twins jumped. "Scared us, Harry," said Fred.  
  
"And 'course we haven't given up on them," added George. "Lee put up an ad for some of the old Wizard Wheezes, and now they're in high demand."  
  
"We're just testing them to make sure we've got the formula right. And since Mum won't let us test them on Kreacher.."  
  
"Ah," said Harry. "Er- I was wondering if you'd have any more Extendable Ears?"  
  
"Sorry, Harry, we're all sold out," said Fred.  
  
"If you'd like to know what's in that letter-"  
  
"You may as well go downstairs and stand there-"  
  
"I doubt they'll notice."  
  
"You don't have any idea."  
  
"Nope," said George. "Mum still won't let us into the meetings. 'Course, as we're overage, we could just walk in, but after Percy." The twins looked at each other and shuddered.  
  
"No thanks," said Fred. "We'll stick to the Fred and George route.  
  
"Anyway, Harry, if you want to know what they're saying, you may as well go downstairs and stick your head in there. They probably won't notice."  
  
Harry nodded dejectedly. He had been expecting a better solution from Fred and George, and he didn't exactly want to waltz downstairs and stick his head in the discussion like he belonged. But anyway, how important could that letter have been? Probably not so important. But then why was Mrs. Weasley so hurried and uptight? Because. That's not a good answer. It was important, and you know it. Now go down there and listen!  
  
At that very moment, something interrupted Harry's internal dilemma. The ancient front door had creaked open, and a tall thin figure stood in its frame. His long white beard nearly swept the ground, and his eyes twinkled behind half-moon glasses which were perched above a very crooked nose.  
  
That letter was important. 


	4. Tea With Dumbledore

Yet Another Harry Potter Story

Chapter Four – Tea With Dumbledore

          AN: I'm rereading Goblet of Fire right now, and I noticed that Chapter Four is called "Back to the Burrow"- oops!  That was an honest mistake- I must have remembered it subconsciously or something.  Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

            **H**arry's utter shock at seeing Dumbledore stayed with him a whole minute before evaporating.  Even after it settled in that Dumbledore was _here_, at Grimmauld Place, his brain seemed to take another five minutes to begin working again.  He supposed that this resulted in him looking very stupid, standing at the top of the stairs and positively gaping down at the adults.

Just after he snapped out of it, he jumped about a foot when Ron tapped him on the shoulder and pointed down at Mrs. Weasley, who was standing at the foot of the stairs and said, "May I have a word with you, Harry dear?"

Wondering what on earth she wanted with him, Harry walked down the stairs feeling quite bemused.

Mrs. Weasley ushered him into a large room with handsome oak doors that Harry recognized as the doors that led to the mysterious room where the meetings for the Order of the Phoenix were held.

"_Vissintra_!" whispered Mrs. Weasley.  The doors slowly creaked open.  The room was not at all as Harry expected it to be.  What he had pictured was a long, stiff, wooden table stretching nearly the length of the room, surrounded by equally stiff wooden chairs, like the rooms on Uncle Vernon's political shows.  He should have known not to expect the obvious.

There were exactly two brilliantly pink couches on each side of the room, which was not rectangular, but square.  In the center of the room, there was a six-foot tall vase of flowers on a few floor tiles, which was surrounded by water, though not enough water to be to the disadvantage of those trying to reach the couches.  Also floating in front of each couch was a large open binder.  The pages of the binders kept fluttering as though disturbed by a playful breeze, even though there were no windows apart from two on the back wall which kept changing from a desert to a forest and back again.

"Over here, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, leading him to a couch on the left wall.

She checked her watch.  "Three, two, one…"

At that very moment, various members of the Order of the Phoenix Apparated into the room.  Very soon, Harry lost count of how many there were, and the room was filled with almost continuous popping noises.

Each member sat down on a couch and began flipping through the binder in front of them and talking interestedly with their neighbors.  It only took Harry a few glances around the room to realize that one key person wasn't there.  Dumbledore was not present.  But hadn't he been standing right outside these doors just moments ago?

Harry tried to take his mind off Dumbledore by flipping through the binder in front of him, but all its pages appeared blank.  He turned to Mrs. Weasley.

"I can't read it," he said.

"Oh, no, dear, don't worry.  It's enchanted so that only members of the Order can read it," she replied.

Just then, Harry's questions about Dumbledore were answered when there was a final popping noise, and Albus Dumbledore took a seat on the couch next to the one he and Mrs. Weasley occupied.

The stubby man Harry recognized as Mundungus Fletcher stood up from his couch across the room.  "Dung!" chorused half the room, as if on cue.

"Dung" pointed his wand at his throat and said, "_Sonorus_."  His magically magnified voice echoed across the room.  "Something very tragic has happened," he said, in a mock serious tone.

Dumbledore stood up.  "Thank you, Mundungus," he said evenly, "but I believe that it is in order for me to make this announcement."

"_Quietus_," grumbled Dung irritably.  "As you wish."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore.  Then without hesitation, he continued, "Lord Voldemort has broken into Sybil Trelawney's seeing well."

Several people gasped or uttered small cries, but Harry assumed that that was because Dumbledore had said Voldemort's name.

"Wait, a second, Professor, what's a seeing-"

Dumbledore simply ignored him, and continued, "You all know what this means.  But you all know the content of what is at stake, as well.  Actions to be discussed at a later date.  You are dismissed."

As quickly as they had come, all the members of the Order of the Phoenix Disapparated.  At last, only Dumbledore, Harry, and Mrs. Weasley were left.  Harry was beginning to feel irritated.  Why did they even bother to bring him in if it was like they were speaking Gobbledegook?

There were several moments of silence, until finally Harry decided that he wanted to talk to Ron and Hermione, and made towards the door.  Mrs. Weasley held him back.  Then, at long last, Dumbledore spoke.

"Molly, if I may have a word with Harry?  Alone?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded fervently.  "Yes, yes of course.  I need to start dinner anyway." She scurried out of the room.

"Harry, kindly tell me how much of that you understood, so that I may evaluate the amount of explaining I have to do."  As he said this, he flicked his wand absently, and the binder vanished, replaced by a small table with to mugs full of steaming hot tea, and a plate of scones.

"Er," said Harry, trying to exactly recall what Dumbledore had said.  He sat down on one of the couches, and when Dumbledore did not object, he stayed there.  "Er, well, Voldemort broke into something that belongs to Professor Trelawney, and everyone knows what it is but me."

"Perceptive," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling and a slight smile playing at his lips.  "Harry, I am sure that you recall the prophecy that I told you about at the end of last term."

Of course he did, how could he not?  He remembered it vividly.  "Yes, Professor," he said slowly, unsure of where this was going.

"Kindly repeat for me what you can."

It was an odd request, but after nearly five years of knowing Dumbledore, he knew not to question him.  He strained his memory.

"Erm, it was something about 'the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies, and his parents will have defied him- Voldemort, I mean- three times." Harry looked up hopefully at Dumbledore to see if he had gotten the information right.  Dumbledore merely nodded.

"Go on," he said.

"And- and then something like Voldemort will mark me- er, him- as his equal, but he will have powers that Voldemort doesn't know about."

Dumbledore nodded again.

"And," he gulped, suddenly aware of how stuffy the room had become, "one of us has to kill the other one, because neither of us can live while the other survives."

"Very good, Harry.  I can see that your memory has not failed you."

Harry nodded, but kept silent.

"Harry, when a Seer makes a prediction, it opens up a kind of- passageway," said Dumbledore.

Harry must have looked confused, because Dumbledore immediately said, "Oh, no, don't worry, it will all make sense in a few moments.

"Now, this passageway can be accessible to anyone, provided that they know where to find it."

Harry was still trying to comprehend this.

"Think of it this way," said Dumbledore.  To Harry's great surprise, he did not sound irritated.  On the contrary, the corners of his mouth were twitching slightly, as though it had taken him a long time to understand this as well.  "There is a large tree.  Every Seer has a branch on this tree.  Each time they make a real prediction, it adds a leaf to their branch."

Harry, though a little less perplexed, was still having trouble seeing where this was going.

"That leaf, or in this case, the prophecy, is accessible to anyone, as long as they know where to look.  Does that make sense?"

"I guess so," said Harry.

"Remember last term when I told you that that was not the only record of the prophecy held by the Department of Mysteries?  So now, to put things simply, he has broken into Professor Trelawney's, branch, and found that particular leaf."

"But, Professor, how does Voldemort go about breaking into other people's, er, branches?" asked Harry.  He felt stupid.  He could now sort of understand the concept of seeing wells, but didn't really understand what Dumbledore was trying to tell him.

"Legilimency."

Harry nodded and took a sip of tea from the mug nearest him.

"I am also assuming that you remember the reason _why_ Voldemort wished to get his hands on that prophecy."

"He thought it contained instructions on how to kill me."

"_Exactly_," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"But it didn't- he was wrong- it just said that one of us would have to kill the other one-"

"_Exactly_," Dumbledore repeated.  "This, coupled with another event, could mean terrible things for our world."

"Wait- _what_?" he was sick of being confused.  Then it dawned on him.  "Oh!" he exclaimed.  "Now he knows that nobody can kill him but me, and now he can go out in the open and do all his Muggle-torturing and wizard-killing and all that- and it won't even matter, because the _Daily Prophet_ printed that he was back!"

"_Exactly_," said Dumbledore for the third time.  He smiled triumphantly, which made Harry feel uncomfortable.  Was it a very hard task to get him to understand something?  "And now I am afraid that I must depart.  I need to create the new class schedules."  He waved his wand once more, and the table was replaced with the binders again.

"Wait, Professor!" said Harry.

"Yes?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, last year, before I took Occlumency, you were avoiding eye contact with me- you know, so that Voldemort couldn't see you."

"Yes, and now I have realized how selfish I was being," replied Dumbledore with a smile.  "I was putting you in danger, and saving my own skin.  I was being, as you would say, a prat."

Harry truly smiled, for, it seemed, the first time since Sirius had died.

"And now, my dear boy, if you have no additional questions, I will be off," said Dumbledore.

"Have a good rest of the summer, Professor," said Harry.  And then, with the softest most immeasurable popping noise, Dumbledore was gone.

Harry ran out of the room and dashed upstairs.  He had a _lot_ to tell Ron and Hermione.

_______________________________________________________________

AN: Did you like it?  I didn't leave you hanging, aren't you proud of me?  Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, I've been on vacation, in a manner of speaking, and haven't had much time to write, and then my disk broke.  And if you're thinking I made a mistake by creating a separate room for the Order of the Phoenix to hold their meetings in, I just thought that they should have a separate room instead of meeting in the dining room.  It is not, I repeat, **_not_** a mistake.  It's _my_ fanfic.  I can do whatever I want.

**Review Feedback (if this deeply bores you, you may skip it) -** Thank you, thank you, thank you, everybody who reviewed!  This is the most reviews I've ever gotten for a story!  Here's some feedback to everyone who reviewed as of August 4, from oldest to newest.

            Kali Shan – Umm, thanks.  I actually thought I was doing a good job.  You should see some of my older chapters for Dora the Explorer.  Less than 500 words.  ::Shudders::

Pyrefly – Thanks, and yes, I will.

Amethyst Mage – Waah!  You're so critical!!  Heeheehee.  How come you're never on???!

JediMasterWhit – Lol!  Sadly, I _do have too much time on my hands!_

Kurbani – Incidentally, when I received your review, I was already working on Chapter Two and Harry's O.W.L. scores.  Great minds think alike, right?

Shdurrani – If you read carefully, I put in the fact that you had to get an O in Potions on your O.W.L.s to be accepted into N.E.W.T. Potions.  Next time you flame me, please have a good reason for doing so.

JediMasterWhit – I like the story thus far, too!  Actually, I spotted a _major_ mistake… hopefully no one will notice it, lol!  Happy fourth- of August!  Lol!

Jonathan Swift – As soon as I find I have grown out of my laziness, I will be deleting your review.  (Don't worry, I'm not really such an ogre, he's a member of my family).  Just because you're all edjumucated and we aren't doesn't mean you have to act like it!

Smiley Gurl 1019 – I think you no my disposition on your review, so SHUT UP!  Hey, that's not nice!  --Maddie

Kurbani – Eeeeee.  Big, stupid, error.  Thanks for pointing it out!  I will proofread my chapters from now on!  See what amazing power you have over me?  Anyone who knows me will tell you that I despise the editing process.

Pyrefly – If you thought Harry was at the hq for the Order of the Phoenix, then you're right, you _are_ usually wrong about those things!!  Please don't take that personally.  It's my nature.  I'm a sarcastic conservative.

Random HP Fan – Okay.  Good.  I like it when people read my stuff.

Kurbani – Yes, I know it's frustrating to read cliffies, but it is _so fun to write them!  Hmmm, that's an interesting point about Harry working harder… I'll consider it._

Your Master lol (JediMasterWhit) – Well JKR basically _did write that last bit.  I just took her descriptions and put them to my own use._

Mella deRanged -- =)

Star06 – Yeah, I actually think I did _too good of a job on that code- I had to open up a separate word document and write what it meant so I wouldn't forget!_

Er… Hermione – Thanks!!!  Someone put me on their favorites list!  If I can't be as good as your friend, at least I can be 'great nonetheless'!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'd also like to thank my "master", Sarah, for beta reading (betaing?).  READ HER FANFICS!  Her penname is JediMasterWhit.  And, as always, please review!

                                                                                                            --Juli


	5. Return to Hogwarts

Yet Another Harry Potter Story 

Chapter Five – Return to Hogwarts 

**T**he remaining two and a half weeks or so of the summer passed by quickly.  Harry was quite looking forward to going back to Hogwarts, but he was also enjoying being where he was, for things seldom got boring at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.  He was also enjoying Lupin's company, because besides Ron and Hermione, he was the closest friend he had left.  He knew that Lupin had been one of his father's best friends, also, but no one could compare to Sirius.  The main reason that Harry was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts so much was that it was too much of an emotional burden to be in Sirius's home.

            But the summer did, eventually, draw to a close.  New school supplies and books were bought, and everyone was cramming in their leftover homework assignments- all except for Hermione, of course, who had finished all of her holiday homework in early July.  Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for Ginny, because she was entering her O.W.L. year, and even though the summer homework for those entering fifth year was not nearly as much as what they got during term, it was still well above average.

            "Hermione," said Ron exasperatedly during one of his and Harry's homework sessions, "what the heck is a Havouri plant?  And what effect do its quills have on- er- shelf mushrooms?"

            Hermione replied by silently walking over to them and slamming _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ down on the table that they were working at.

            "Oh, thanks," said Harry in equal exasperation.  "Really helpful."

            Ron was checking the table of contents in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.  "What'd'you reckon it'd be under, Harry?  Japanese plants, or plants and their relations to fungi?"

            "Can't be Japanese," Harry said.  "We did Japanese plants in fourth year, remember?  They all had names like Wesaki and Venitami."

            "Right," agreed Ron.  "Plants and their relations to fungi, then?"

            At this point, Hermione evidently got sick of their stupidity, because she said, "Oh, you two are so _hapless_.  Try the index."

            "Ah," Harry said.  "Thanks."

            To Ron's delight, the one listing for "Havouri" was indeed under "plants and their relations to fungi".

            "Whoa," said Harry.  "That is _weird_…"

            "Too right," said Ron, for the plant that they were looking at was far from ordinary.  It appeared at first to be something like a large ball of clay covered in purple and orange spikes.  But undeniably protruding from the center were two bulbous eyes.

            "_Luna_," whispered Ron, and they both cracked up.  Unfortunately, Ginny was listening.

            "I would have thought that what happened last spring would make you see that she's really alright," said Ginny huffily.

            "Don't- get- us- wrong," Harry laughed, unable to stop.  "We're not- saying we don't like- her, but her eyes- just-"

            "Stick out a few inches," offered Ron, and he and Harry lapsed into fits of laughter once more.  Ginny turned her back on them and walked away, muttering under her breath, "Immature."

            "Okay, then," said Harry, finally regaining control of himself.  "Three uses for the Havouri plant are…?"

            "Er-" said Ron, looking very unusual with his nose in a book.  "When dilated using bubotuber pus and single-malt whiskey mixed with chocolate without its quills and then squeezed, it produces Havouri juice- oh, wow, what an original name-, which is used in an Ungrowth Potion, whatever that is… and then the whites of its-"

            "Hang on, hang on, let me finish copying that down," Harry interjected, and scribbled down the rest of it.  "Okay, go on."

            "The whites of its eyes, when planted, grow greygrass, the main food of nifflers."  He paused and waited for Harry to finish, and then continued, "and its third use is that its roots are mobile, but when stationary attract Busini moss, which has over thirty uses itself.  When the plant moves, the moss stays on, so it eventually becomes covered in it.  For more on the thirty-two uses of Busini moss, see page one hundred forty-eight."

            "You think we have to put down all thirty-whatever uses of Busini moss?" asked Harry.

            "I don't care," said Ron.  "Here, give me that, I need to copy it down…"

***

            Before they knew it, it was September first.  They packed their stuff in a Muggle car-thing that Mundungus Fletcher had somehow acquired that was rather squarish.  It took Harry and Hermione a few moments to remember that it was called an SUV [AN: I don't know if that's what they call them in England, but- who cares!].  Mr. Weasley, of course, was fascinated by it.

            When they arrived at the station, they loaded their trolleys and ran through the barrier that separated platforms nine and ten to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.   The familiar scarlet steam engine dubbed the "Hogwarts Express" was once again anchored at the platform.  They bid good-bye to Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and boarded the train.

            As Ron and Hermione set off towards the prefects' compartments (AN: Yes, they have two, Percy is quoted as saying that in either book 2 or book 1… can't remember which), Harry shook himself free of Ginny, leaving her with some fifth year friends, and, miraculously, found a compartment to himself.

            Once he had decided on a seat, he sat down and pulled out his new copy of _Advanced Transfiguration_.  Hermione had said that they started it in sixth year… and she was right about everything else….

            And there it was, on page 567.  The bold heading unmistakable.  _Human Transfiguration_.

            The reason that he had been so keen to do it out of Hermione and Ron's company was simply because he didn't want to be laughed at.  Hermione could probably turn herself into thirty different animals if she tried, and Ron would give up too quickly.  But his father and Sirius and even Peter _Pettigrew_ (that evil, cheating, stinking…) had managed to do it, and in their fifth year, too.  And now both his father and Sirius were dead, Pettigrew was, er, evil, and Lupin was a werewolf.  So why couldn't he try as well?

            Scanning the page, he found that most of what was covered in this book was turning another wizard into an animal of your choice, but he did stumble across one semi-useful paragraph:

            A given witch or wizard may be transfigured into the animal of the spell-caster's choice, although it is impossible to transform a given witch or wizard into their Soul Animal, i.e. the form their Patronus takes, and/or the animal that they would transform into were they to become an Animagus.  A witch or wizard can only transform into their Soul Animal at will (by becoming an Animagus).  For more on Animagi, see page 1918.

            Wondering exactly how long the section on human transfiguration lasted, Harry hurriedly flipped to page 1918.  The first few paragraphs only told him what he already knew; they basically defined what an Animagus was, and how it was illegal to become one or attempt to become one without the knowledge of the Ministry of Magic ("Right," muttered Harry).  What he wanted to know was _how_ to become one.

            He flipped over a few pages and at last found a page under a heading which proclaimed, "So You'd Like to be an Animagus?" the compartment door slid open and Ron and Hermione burst in.

            Harry quickly shoved _Advanced Transfiguration back inside his bag.  Animagi would have to wait._

***

            When the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, it was only drizzling slightly, which Harry, Ron, and Hermione took as a good sign; all of their previous entrances to Hogwarts had been met with torrential downpours.

            They boarded a thestral-drawn carriage, and as soon as Hogwarts castle appeared, Harry lost all memory of what Dumbledore had said about Privet Drive.  He was home.

_______________________________________

            AN: _Major writer's block on this chapter!!!  I forced myself to write, though, and I think it's gone now!!  ^ - ^ If you're wondering if I put in the bit about the Havouri plant just to take up space, you're wrong.  It will be important later….  Also, if you know me well, you can guess at the reasons for the page numbers… the first one is harder than the second one, though.  Please review!!!  ;D_

                                                                                                            --Juli


	6. What May be Fair

Yet Another Harry Potter Story

Chapter Six – What May be Fair

          **"H**ermione," said Ron, cocking his head and staring at her strangely.  "You look- odd."

            "Yeah," Harry agreed.  "What's wrong?"

            "My timetable," Hermione answered distantly, shaking her head.  "They left out NEWT Potions."

            "Oh, yes, that's really a tragedy.  No Potions.  How will you ever survive?" Ron said sarcastically.  "Get over it already.  I'd've given anything not to have had Potions last year."

            It was their first real day of classes, but their second full day of school.  The sixth and seventh years had had their first real day at Hogwarts off because Professor McGonagall had spent the majority of the previous morning lecturing them on the importance of which NEWT classes they chose, and gave each student a piece of parchment which told them which classes they were eligible for based on their OWL scores.  Hermione, of course, had qualified for everything, and hadn't dropped any classes.  Harry and Ron had both dropped Divination at last, but out of sympathy for Hagrid, they had both remained in Care of Magical Creatures.  Hagrid, though, had not been at the Welcoming Feast two nights previously, and, as they had been last year, Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew that they would be slightly jumpy until he returned.  However desperately he wanted to drop Potions, Harry had decided to stick with it, as his will to be an Auror surpassed this desperation.  He was surprised that he was even eligible for NEWT Potions, as he hadn't gotten an O in it on the OWLs.

            "Are you sure you didn't just look it over when you checked off your classes yesterday?" suggested Harry.  "I mean, you _did get an O on your test didn't you?"_

            Hermione looked at him evilly.  "Of course I did.  And I filled out my forms when I was signing up for classes magically, so it's highly unlikely that I made a mistake."

            "True," Harry admitted.  "Well, we've got Potions second today, so why don't you just come and ask Snape what happened?"

            "But I can't skive off Arithmancy!" Hermione exclaimed, horrified.  "And I highly doubt that Snape will be reasonable."

            "Why don't you tell Vector that you have to go see Snape, and if there was a mistake go to McGonagall and ask her to change your schedule?" asked Ron.

            "And Snape doesn't yet know who stole the boomslang skin from his privates stores in second year," Harry added, grinning.  "So I think that you're safe."

            "I guess so…" Hermione said reluctantly, poking holes in her waffle.

            ***

            When Harry and Ron got to Potions that day, they knew exactly why Hermione didn't have NEWT Potions on her schedule.  There was only one class for each subject now, and the sixth year Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Slytherins, and Hufflepuffs all had the same classes together.  One quick glance around the room told them the reason.

            Over the heads of all their male year-mates, they spotted one lone girl.  Pansy Parkinson.

            "Why wouldn't Snape want girls in his class?" asked Ron under his breath.

            "Because he's a sexist pig?" Harry guessed, keeping his voice equally low.

            "This is really very odd," said Ron, sounding pleased with himself, as though he had justified the situation.

            Harry, not noticing, said, "I don't know how he got away with it; McGonagall would never let him do this, and isn't she in charge of class placement?"

            "Dunno," Ron replied.  "Uh-oh, Snape's noticed us…."

            "Potter!  Weasley!" barked Snape angrily.  "You're late!  Take your seats!  Ten points from Gryffindor!"

            "It's no good to argue," Harry muttered, poking Ron in the ribs.  "Come on."

            "Today we will be learning about-" Snape paused, his eyes glittering maliciously.  "And may I ask what _you want, Miss Granger?" he asked, and all heads turned toward the doorway.  By the look on her face, Harry and Ron could tell that she already knew why Potions wasn't on her schedule.  Snape's mouth twisted itself into an evil grin.  "I don't recall you being in any of my classes."_

            "Er, I took a wrong, erm, turn," she stammered, looking unnaturally frazzled.  "I didn't mean to come down here- good day!"  And with that, she turned around and sprinted out of the dungeons, one arm over her face.

            ***

            "_Excellent, Nagini," the man sitting in the chair whispered.  "All is going according to plan.  My old- excuse me- my _new_ servant is powerless to stop me."  The snake on the ground next to the seat hissed its approval, its eyes the same inky black slits as its master's.  It rose on its tail so that it could see its master clearly.  The man in the chair patted it absently._

            "Wormtail!" he snapped suddenly.  "Fetch me my Absconditum!"

            The terrified servant lurking in the shadows of the enclosed room murmured a brief, "Yes, Master," and scurried away.  A moment later, he returned, carrying an opaline white, perfectly spherical orb.  It was not a crystal ball, but a device made with his own blood, the blood of a snake, and stone of his father.  He was extremely proud of it, and it could never be replaced.

            "Ah," he said quietly, caressing the surface of the globe gently, pleased with the image inside.  "All is going according to plan.  Little Harry Potter and his friends- ahem, _friend_- will not be able to figure out what is right under their noses.  This time, there will be no mistakes.  I will monitor the situation for a month, and then we will leave."

            The snake hissed its approval once more, and the servant nodded meekly.  He desperately hoped (although he was in debt of the black-haired boy) that this time, Lord Voldemort's plan was flawless.

            ***

            As though she knew her master was thinking of her, the second servant fingered a sparkling sapphire jewel that hung discreetly from her neck.  Dark brown, almost black hair fell in gentle waves to the middle of her back, and huge brown eyes framed in long lashes stared back at her from her looking-glass.  She was the very picture of innocence, and that was why she was so important.  She waved her wand once, and the surface of the mirror rippled and changed to reveal someone with a long hooked nose and greasy black hair.  When she thought left, he went left.  When she thought right, he went right.  She toyed with him for a moment, amusing herself, then flicked her wand once more and began to adjust her hair.  This was going to be very easy.

____________________________________________

AN: Lots and lots of little tiny clues in this chapter.  And that's all I'm going to say!!  And it's really thanks to Mr. Baka (lol) that I figured out my plot. ^ - ^ Please review!!!

                                                                                                            --Juli


	7. The Lion and the Fish

**Yet Another Harry Potter Story**

**Chapter Seven – The Amazing Adventures of the Lion and the Fish**

**AN:  Ack!  I'm wicked sorry about not updating… okay, if you get sick of me not updating this fanfic, you can read my other one; I'm pretty good about adding more chapters ::apologetic smile:: Repeats monotonously:: I will update more often, I will update more often, I will update more often….**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            **_T__hey say that Argus Filch owns_**

_            One half of this whole town_

_            With political connections_

_            To spread his wealth around!_

_            Born into society_

_            An Auror's only child_

_            He had everything a man could want_

_            Power, grace and style_

- 'Argus Filch', folk song, written c. 1894.  (AN: The real song, _Richard Cory, is by Paul Simon, performed by Simon & Garfunkel.  I DON'T OWN IT.)_

            "What's this?" asked Harry.  He, Ron, and a still extremely disgruntled Hermione were in the library later that day.  Ron and Harry were working on their Potions homework.  Hermione was working on something else.

            "What?" Ron asked, leaning over to see the book Harry was reading.

            "Look," said Harry, pointing to the verse.  "Argus Filch… what d'you reckon?"

            "I reckon it was written in 1894, mate, and no one would write a song about a Squib."

            "But he has the same name," Harry pointed out.

            "Well, maybe it was common back in the Stone Age," said Ron.  "And read it again.  Rich?  Powerful?  _Filch?"_

            "I know," admitted Harry.  "But maybe that explains why he's a caretaker.  His rich, powerful, family cast him out when they found out that he was a Squib, and since they were so famous everyone found out about it, and Hogwarts was the only place he could find work."

            "I'd feel sorry for him if that were true," Hermione remarked from behind a sheet of bushy brown hair.

            Ron gaped at her.  "You do realize that you just used a form of pity and a pronoun for Filch in the same sentence, don't you?"

            "I'm usually quite aware of what I say, thanks," she answered.

            "What _are you working on, anyway?" Harry asked her.  She had spoken but two words before he had run into the Filch-poem._

            "Er, just something for-" Hermione muttered an indistinguishable word.  Seeing the blank looks on their faces, she added, "The class I'm taking while you two've got Potions."  She hastily shoved a thinly bound book into her bag and said, "Well, I'm done now.  I'll see you two at breakfast tomorrow."

            Harry and Ron exchanged glances.  "Girls," Ron muttered, shaking his head.

            ***

            The next day in Potions, something happened that was very queer indeed.  Draco, normally the perfect angelic student for Snape, wasn't paying attention.  He only made half of his Soaring Solution when Snape strode down the aisle and deftly plucked a purple book from his hands.  Several students turned to watch Snape's odd behavior.  Usually, he would have just told the antagonist off, not confiscated the distraction.  And as it was Malfoy, well….

            "Now, now, what have we here?" Snape addressed the class from the front of the room.  "_Astrology for Warlocks_, hmm?  I would not have expected you, Draco, to be reading something that is so obviously meant for Mudbloods."

            Draco's face flushed, and he looked down (AN: Sorry to all you Draco fans out there ::cough:: Sarah ::cough, hack::, but it's for the good of the plot) and took Snape's insults.  Harry and Ron found this whole scenario highly amusing.  They fought to hide their laughter, but it seemed that Snape had found his victim of the day.

            "Oh?" Snape continued, flipping through the embossed pages.  "A dog-eared page?  Well, we shall read, Mr. Malfoy, we shall read…." At this, Harry reverted to his old tactic of ducking under the table, or, in this case, behind his cauldron, to conceal his very loud and involuntary opinion.  " 'The bonds you make won't be easy to break today. Before you take another step closer to your amore, think about how serious you really want things to be. This could be the start of a beautiful relationship, provided you're with the right person.'  Oh, how _charming_… it changes your horoscope for each day… how positively _nifty…."  Draco's face adopted a scarlet hue that clashed horribly with his white-blonde hair.  Ron had to stuff his fist into his mouth to keep from losing it completely._

            "Lucky you don't take Divination, Draco," Snape said.  "I doubt Professor Trelawney would be very pleased to see that you are straying out to a branch of fortune-telling outside of the curriculum…."

            Luckily for Draco (and Harry and Ron, too), the bell rang just as Snape finished.  As they exited the classroom, Ron said, "That was the most brilliant thing since Moody transfigured him into a bouncing ferret!  I love Snape!"  Harry cocked an eyebrow at him.  "Okay, so I don't even remotely like him, but that's okay!  It was still wonderful, brilliant, amazing, magnificent, superb…."  (AN: Someone ate the thesaurus!  ::Coughs::)

            ***

            "Guess what!" Harry said excitedly, plopping down next to Hermione at lunch hour.

            "What?" She asked, not sounding very interested.

            "Malfoy got yelled at by Snape!  Isn't that great?"  Harry grinned as Ron sat down next to him.  "Give her the details, Ron."

            "What'd he get yelled at for?" questioned Hermione, sounding slightly more attentive.

            "Reading in class.  And you won't believe what he was reading.  _Astrology for Warlocks!"  At Ron's last word, both he and Harry dissolved into peals of laughter._

            "Well, astrology is quite interesting, isn't it?" Harry and Ron stared at her.  "What?"

            "Are you the same person who dropped out of Divination in third year?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

            "I suppose so," Hermione answered, "but that certainly doesn't mean that I can't take an interest in something.  Astrology is kind of cool.  I'm a Virgo, what're you two?"

            Harry and Ron exchanged glances.  "Er, I don't know," Ron answered.  "I was born on 1 March, so I guess that makes me a-"

            "Pisces," Hermione answered automatically.  "And Harry's birthday is 31 July, so that means that he's a Leo."  When Harry and Ron continued to stare at her, she added, "What?  It's not like you're not used to me knowing everything about everything already…."

            "Erm," Harry said.  "Hermione, are you sure that nothing's wro-"

            "Quite sure, I'm fine.  Just dandy!" she picked up her bag, and a purple book slipped out of it.  She hastily shoved it back in.  "I've some work to catch up on, so I'll see you two in Charms…."

            Harry and Ron continued to stare at her retreating back.  _Something must__ be wrong with her, thought Harry.  _She would never have taken an interest in astrology last year, I know that for a fact.  And she's always been so- _modest__ about her intellect.  Yes, something's definitely wrong with Hermione._

            ***

            The brown haired, large eyed beauty looked attentively at her master.

            "You are doing well, my servant," Voldemort said, stroking Nagini.  Stroking one's pet snake when one is plotting evilly is a bad habit to get into, as snakes are very sensitive and tend to bite one if one rubs them incorrectly, causing one to lose one's train of thought.  "Just keep them, shall we say, flat footed, and everything will be fine.  FINE!"

            She jumped at his last word.  "Yes, my master," she uttered, and left.

            __________________________________________________________

            AN: Whoohoo!  I wrote another chapter!  Yay!  :D What's with Filch, what's wrong with Hermione, and who exactly is servant?  Yup, you guessed it, I'm a walking commercial for myself!  Find out next chapter!  And don't forget to review ^ - ~

                                                                                                            --Juli


End file.
